Whipped Cream
by anja-chan
Summary: A ZAFT Academy short. So, what actually happened at the party before Yzak was table dancing and fell into the whipped cream? For those who have read Party, a Gundam SEED short, and want to know the truth.


_Because you all wanted it. . . even though I totally didn't actually have anything in mind for this when I wrote Party.__Hope you like it._

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**Whipped Cream**

_A ZAFT Academy short_

* * *

"You two are coming, right?" Athrun asked between classes. He paused, stopping to look his blonde friend in the eye. Even though he had only become 'friends' with Yzak Joule since the new year started, Athrun had already learned to avoid eye contact or anything that could be interpreted as a challenge. Dearka, on the other hand, was his usual laid-back self that Athrun could trust.

"Yeah, yeah. We'll be there," he assured the blue-headed boy, before switching the subject, "Hey, did you do your strategy homework?"

Athrun sighed. Sometimes—actually most of the time—Dearka was too laid-back. Yzak shook his silver hair disdainfully.

"Honestly, Dearka, you'll never be a Red Coat if you slack off this much. Lazy bastard. At least that'll mean I won't have to be on your squad when we graduate."

Dearka smiled good-naturedly as if Yzak had just told him he had a nice haircut, instead of insulting his work ethic.

Athrun meanwhile had pulled out his Strategy notebook and handed over his homework to the grinning blonde.

"Thanks! I'll get it back to you by sixth period," Dearka said. Athrun thought he should look at least a little more contrite, maybe more thankful. However, as Dearka needed to copy homework on a biweekly basis, Athrun figured the easy-going boy likely took the act of kindness for granted.

"Just come to the party tomorrow," Athrun said to their backs as Yzak and Dearka headed off to their next class.

Athrun, however, waited at the intersection in the hallway. He checked his watch. Three minutes until Communications began, but….

"Athrun!" yelled a petit voice. The small green-haired boy to whom the voice belonged skidded to a halt, panting slightly.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Athrun. Engineering was let out late again." Nicol smiled apologetically, looking very much like the fourteen-year-old boy he was. As the two started walking, Athrun could not help but smile back, infected by Nicol's bubbly enthusiasm.

"You're still having the… get-together?" Nicol asked, lowering his voice as a teacher walked by.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure half the school will be there," Athrun replied quietly. He stopped as they reached the door to the Communications classroom. There were still two minutes before class started.

"Well, you _do_ have the best parties, Athrun," Nicol conceded, "Your estate is so big, plus your dad's always away with the council."

The truth was that Nicol, as well as Yzak and Dearka, all had situations at home similar to Athruns, except that Athrun only had one parent. And if that single parent was away… well, the mice dance while the cat is away. Nicol gave Athrun an appraising look, admiring the older boy's independence. Athrun retuned with a quick smile.

"Did you hear if Rusty could make it?" he asked.

"Uh, he said he might be working tomorrow night, but… well, he's fond of these sorts of functions," Nicol answered, cracking a small smile. It quickly morphed into a larger one.

"Yeah, that's Rusty," Athrun lamented sarcastically. Nicol giggled as Athrun rolled his eyes heavenward as if asking some deity to watch over their less wealthy, and therefore to their minds poor, friend.

With Nicol still giggling slightly, they entered the classroom and took their seats.

* * *

"Cheers, Yzak," Dearka said grinning like an idiot and practically shouting over the blaring music. He clinked his wine glass to Yzak's and put an arm around Yzak's shoulder, proud of his ability to speak with only a slight slur. Yzak, on the other hand, did not look impressed. He tossed his silver hair.

"Elsman," Yzak enunciated quite clearly and coldly, "Keep your drunken body out of my personal space or I will take you out to the shooting range and use you for target practice."

Dearka stared blankly at the other boy without moving. The heavy beat of a techno song pulsed throughout the room, but neither of paid any attention to it or the throng of dancers. Yzak's eye twitched dangerously, until Dearka suddenly burst out laughing, giving Yzak a rough pat on the back. A low growl emanated from the pale boy's lips.

"Elsman…" he warned.

"Relax, Yzak," Dearka replied casually, "You should learn to loosen up a little."

The blonde gave him a warm smile and carefully poured his remaining wine into Yzak's glass.

"That's disgusting, Elsman!" Yzak shouted, nearly dropping the offending wine glass and its contents. He quickly moved to the nearest table full of desserts and set it down. Dearka followed, however it was apparently against Yzak's wishes as evidence by the icy glare.

"Here, I'll make it up to you," Dearka told him. He poured a new glass of wine nearly to the top, taking it carefully by the narrow stem and presented it delicately to Yzak.

"What the hell," Yzak muttered darkly, but he took the proffered peace offering, bringing his lips to the glass and having a small sip of the dark liquid. Dearka snatched up a chocolate covered strawberry and popped it into his mouth. He left the green top on a napkin, and continued to chatter aimlessly at Yzak.

"I don't see why you're always so straight-laced, my friend—"

"We're not friends. Don't kid yourself, Elsman."

"—you should stop sometimes and …" Dearka trailed off, his eyes losing focus from Yzak's face to some point behind his left ear. Yzak made an arrogant sound of annoyance.

"What, smell the roses, Elsman?" he said sarcastically before taking a swallow of wine.

"No," Dearka replied, beginning to smile wolfishly, "…flirt."

Yzak felt his face turn red. He spun around, only to find himself face to face with a certain pink-haired pop star. Obviously, she was what Dearka had been staring at.

"Ara," Lacus said in high-pitched surprise at being suddenly confronted by the pale boy. She took a step back to give herself and Yzak their personal bubble space.

Then she hiccupped.

Quickly bringing a gloved hand to cover her mouth, she gave the two boys a sheepishly embarrassed smile, swishing past them to the dessert table and some sort of dish to which she helped herself freely. Neither Yzak nor Dearka could see exactly what it was underneath the copious amounts of whipped cream, but Lacus seemed to enjoy it. Dearka gave Yzak a playful wink and tried to follow, except he was suddenly yanked back by the arm. Yzak gripped his wrist almost painfully.

"You can't hit on her, idiot!" Yzak hissed, "She's engaged to Zala!!"

Yzak dragged the protesting taller boy towards the punch bowl and wine bottles—the opposite side of the table to which the idol was now happily munching on some white-chocolate covered cherries.

"Okay, okay, relax," Dearka mumbled, freeing himself from Yzak's painful grip. He picked up a new glass and pulled the pre-loosened cork from a bottle. He easily poured himself a glass half-full, but then sloshed more into Yzak's glass, the red wine nearing the brim. Yzak was forced to gulp several swallows quickly in order to avoid a spill.

"C'mon, let's go," Yzak said hastily, pulling Dearka away from the alcohol and forcing him to tear his eyes off the pink princess at the other end of the table. Yzak weaved through the partygoers on the immense ballroom floor, careful not to bump into any drunken dancers who were flopping dramatically to an annoyingly loud song. When he reached the wall opposite the banquet tables, he turned to Dearka, his face slightly flushed and his blue eyes dilated. Dearka blinked, then leaned against the wall, his eyes again focusing on someone behind Yzak. Yzak shut his eyes, feeling his rage build.

"Elsman, I swear, if that is another sex magnet, I will—"

"Hey guys, glad you could make it," Athrun said, giving Yzak a friendly pat on the shoulder. "As long as you two aren't going to play a prank here. This isn't the academy, you know." He smiled.

Dearka smirked, as Yzak threw Athrun's hand off his shoulder, almost spilling more o his wine with the violent action. He quickly and angrily drained the rest, promptly setting the empty glass into Athrun's hand in an effort to dismiss his blue-haired rival and prevent and accident involving wine stains.

"Nice party," Dearka observed in his most cliché party voice. Athrun laughed good-naturedly.

"Alright, have fun, but don't screw it up," he said, gesturing vaguely with Yzak's empty glass. Yzak tried to swat away Athrun's presence, but his movements came out a little slower and Athrun just waved back as he made his exit.

Dearka watched Athrun walk away, and noticed as he engaged a redheaded youth in conversation, gesturing towards the two he had left near the wall. Dearka smiled.

"Whadda hell are you smiling about?!" Yzak demanded, his threat losing some of its edge with his slurred intonation.

"Looks like Rusty could make it," Dearka answered, as the redhead approached. Rusty gave a friendly smile and greeted them both.

"'Sup guys," Rusty said, slipping into his less-refined accent of Januarius. At school, he was usually more careful to speak very correctly, especially when he was among the upper class members. Or mostly just Yzak.

Yzak snorted, looking disdainful. "Your ghetto is coming out, peasant," he enunciated clearly, his raised eyebrows adding emphasis to his belief in his own superiority.

Dearka and Rusty looked at each other before they burst out laughing. Yzak was instantly indignant, but also a little confused.

"Shaddup! Elsman, Mackenzie, you're both walkin' a fine line there, you know that?!"

Rusty and Dearka only continued to laugh as Yzak turned quickly in a huff. He almost lost his balance and what could have been called his pride if he had, but managed to make a vaguely straight line back to the dessert and wine table. With every thud of the music, however, Yzak looked like he was about to fall, Dearka and Rusty, less inebriated, followed cautiously behind, snickering constantly at Yzak's attempts to grope his way across the room and nearly getting squashed in the moshpit.

Once safely at the table, Yzak finally noticed that several of the female dancers had followed him and were now giggling loudly amongst themselves, pointing at the angry drunken student. He strode over the several steps to the gaggle of girls who quieted for the most part. One girl, who could not stop giggling, was pushed forward by her so-called friends.

"She wants to dance with you," said three of them simultaneously. Their eyes flitted over Yzak with admiration and embarrassment.

"Who wouldn't?" came the boy's narcissistic reply. His silver hair shimmered in the darkened room, the lights flashing as he shook his head trying to be seem aloof, but coming out mostly drunk.

The girls, on the other hand, flocked to him like bees to honey. They began gyrating in relentless twists and other slightly disturbing movements. Dearka and Rusty stared in near horror.

"That's almost disgusting," Dearka said, fascinated by the wanton display of the five girls.

"Well," Rusty drawled, "You know what they say about such freakish dancin', right?"

Dearka shook his blonde head, his purple eyes still focused on Yzak as the pale boy danced like an idiot, but still managing to somehow make his slim body appealing.

"Yep," Rusty continued nonchalantly, "That's what we call sex on a dance floor." Dearka could only guess at the other sorts of things Rusty endured in the slums and ghettos he imagined for his money-deprived friend. He shuddered, his mind showing him images of seedy bars full of dirty, greasy, homeless people dancing.

"Now that _is_ disgusting," Dearka managed, "Someone's got to stop him."

He tore his eyes off of Yzak for a moment to look the other cadet in the eye. Rusty, however, only seemed to be focusing on his nose because he had set his pointer finger on it. He looked back up at Dearka and smiled, which made Dearka feel vaguely like time Rusty had caught him red-handed in the middle of a prank.

"You're volunteering?" Dearka puzzled. But why anyone would want to cross a drunken Yzak. Rusty merely rolled his eyes.

"No, stupid. You're last to the nose. That means _you_ get to go save him from himself," he replied, smirking.

"Last to the…? Ah, what the _hell_…" Dearka cursed as he turned towards Yzak.

Who was now standing on the table with two girls, all three continuing their dance as best they could. Dearka moved off, hearing Rusty's faint laughter from somewhere amid the rumbling techno beat.

"Yzak! Yzak!"

The pale boy glanced down for a moment, and then turned to the brunette on his right. Yzak was completely ignoring him.

"Joule! Get your ass over here!"

Yzak smiled drunkenly, finally turning to the frustrated blonde below him.

"Keh," he laughed, "'Cause that's what you want, Elsman? My… _ass_?!" He laughed uproariously as if he had made a joke that was actually intelligent and funny. Dearka sighed as the two girls burst into fits of raucous giggles.

"No, Yzak I don't—"

"Well, then, I'm not comin' down," he said haughtily, focusing his eyes somewhere on the ceiling.

"Fine, Yzak, I do want—"

"No, no, no," he interrupted angrily, before lowering his voice into a stage whisper, "You have to _say_ it like you _mean_ it. Or I won't come."

Dearka blinked, trying not to ponder too deeply the underlying meaning of his friend's words. Was it really worth it to help his friend from further embarrassment? Would Yzak thank him later for this sacrifice, or just tease him until he ended his military career? Dearka sighed helplessly, knowing the answer. Yzak would kill him if he knew Deara had let him behave stupidly when drunk.

"Yzak," he said dramatically, lifting his eyes up to Yzak's cold orbs. The girls hushed immediately, looking carefully between the two cadets. "I want… no, I _ need_," Dearka improvised, "You."

Silently, he added to himself, _To come down here this instant or else_, but Yzak could not have known that and flushed dark red, completely taken in by Dearka's acting. He stopped dancing and released the girls, looking slightly dazed and cornered. His blue eyes were wide and he brought his slender hands to his face.

Deraka cursed under his breath and reached out a hand to help Yzak to the ground. However, seeing the sudden advancing gesture, Yzak let out a yelp, taking a step backwards right into the whipped cream dish. He looked down in horror, removing his foot quickly and completely losing his balance.

Yzak tumbled off the table, bringing down part of the tablecloth, several clattering dishes, two scantily clad girls, and lots of whipped cream. The corner of the ballroom in which they were situated went silent in the ensuing echo of the clash. Everyone stared and stood motionless, except Dearka, who rushed over to check for injuries.

Yzak was drenched in what looked to be whipped cream and cherry pie. He lay prostrate among a few upturned bowls and bits of other gourmet desserts, oblivious to the world, but seemingly unharmed.

Dearka laughed, plucking a chocolate—and now whipped cream—covered strawberry from Yzak's chest. As he ate it, Athrun ran up to assess the damage. He let out a low whistle before following Dearka's example, but instead he took a cherry from Yzak's left side.

"Figures Joule would try to crash my party."

* * *

_Thanks for keeping me inspired and I hope you enjoyed it._ _I'll be in Japan for the next several weeks until June 10th-ish, so don't expect anything between now and then. Thanks for any reviews._


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